


Bait

by MrsJohnSmith



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff, Kidnapping, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 19:23:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7002202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsJohnSmith/pseuds/MrsJohnSmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Demon uses you as bait to lure the Winchesters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bait

Your eyes blinked open and you tried to focus on where you were. You’d had a lot of mornings like this, a side effect of a life on the road. Countless motels in almost all fifty states. You moved to wipe at your eyes, but your hand was stuck. The other one too. Adrenaline sharpened all your senses as you went into hunter mode, flashes of the last thing you remember: the bar, the girl, your head exploding in pain. Shit.

You were laid out on a stale smelling bed in a dilapidated one-room cabin that probably hadn’t seen another human in years. Hands, hands were in cuffs at the head of the bed, legs tied together with rope and secured to the opposite end. You tested the strength of each, grunting to yourself when you realized everything was disappointingly sturdy. Wriggling around on the bed, you could tell your pockets had been emptied, your right boot feeling light without the dagger you normally kept tucked in there.

At least you still had your clothes on. And your gallows humor was still intact.

 

“Aw, look who’s awake.” A disturbingly sweet voice floated in from the other side of the screen door. With a creak, she pulled it open and strutted inside. “How ya feelin, sugar?”

An unknown face smiled at you and you sized her up. Shorter, more compact, no visible weapons or telltale bulges in her clothes. “Who are you?” You spat out.

Her only response was to flick her eyes black for a moment before returning to a more normal blue.

“All right, yeah, sure.” Your mouth shrugged and you nodded your head. This wasn’t your first rodeo. “I think someone’s due for a monologue, yeah?”

She scoffed at you “Well aren’t you just the spunkiest little thing?” She walked towards you, gaze hardening. “Maybe just right down to business, OK? You really don’t need to know anything.” She sat down on the creaky bed with you and you tried not to let it show how her proximity disgusted you.

“Cool, yeah. Sooner that happens, sooner I’ll be sending you back to hell.”

She let out a loud laugh. “You are just too precious.” She pulled a cell phone from her pocket, your cell phone. “What say we call your lover man, huh? Think he’s worried about you by now?”

Your eyes narrowed at her, but you didn’t give her the satisfaction of a response.

“Technology these days.” She sighed as she leaned up to your hands to press your thumb to the phone. Once unlocked her thumb swiped around briefly before she turned the screen to face you. “Heart emojis? Really?”

You stared daggers at her while she thumbed at the phone some more. Sure you were a badass hunter, but OK, fine, you put those stupid heart emojis on either side of Dean’s name in your contacts.

“Y/N, where are you?” Dean’s gruffly worried voice blasted as soon as he picked up.

“Oh, don’t worry honey, I’ve got her right here.” She winked at you as she got up to pace the small length of the room. “Why don’t you swing by and pick her up?”

You tried to make out what he was saying, but couldn’t. He was probably letting loose a string of threats, though.

“Ooh, I don’t think that’s how a lady should be spoken to, Dean. But listen, honey, she’s right here. Safe and sound, for now.” She walked back towards you. “Tell your sweetheart how much you miss him.”

“Dean! Do not come here. It’s obviously a -” before you knew it, she was proving how good of a right hook she had.

Like nothing had happened, she turned gracefully and strolled out of the cabin, her words sickeningly sweet to Dean. You weren’t sure which turned your stomach more, the way she talked to him or the thought of him already formulating a rescue plan. He knew you could hold your own; he would get that fiery look in his eyes whenever you expertly dispatched a monster. He still couldn’t help himself, though, placing himself in front of you in dangerous situations, not letting you take your fair share of shovelfuls on salt and burns, asking you to stay behind on particularly difficult cases even though he knew you never would.

You could do this. Rescue yourself. You tested your restraints again, hoping to find some weakness somewhere. As you wriggled your arms and legs, you took inventory of the room. Of course, nothing of yours was inside that you could see and nothing of any value was close to the bed. Books, newspapers, tiny lamp on a rickety looking bedside table. Though the kitchen was on the other side of the room, you scanned it for anything useful, hoping to see the glint of a knife.

Footsteps, the creak of the screen door. “Ooh, your lover boy has quite the mouth on him.”

“He sure does.” You smirked at her.

“Oof, spare me the details. This isn’t some sleepover, honey.” She waved you off dismissively and turned towards the kitchen, fussing with items on the counter.

“Then what is it?” Time to get her talking, stall, get information.

“A way to get the Winchesters off our backs for a good long while.” She seemed to be measuring something out to add to the bowl on the counter.

“Dang, I’m hurt. Not at all worried about me on your back?”

She practically snorted as she turned back to you. “Aw, sugar. You’re not surviving this. This is what’s gonna drive a permanent wedge between those brothers.”

You ignored the chill that ran through you, putting effort into toughening up your voice. “You obviously don’t know them if you think they’re gonna get sidelined by losing me.”

She assessed you before speaking, her head cocked slightly to one side. “Hm. Well, the spell is sure gonna help, but I wonder if you really believe that? That maybe you wouldn’t be such a great loss for them, for Dean. Maybe he would just snap right back before your body’s cold, picking up a bar babe in every shithole town he rolls through.”

You fought to keep eye contact with her, determined not to let her mind games mess with you. Or at least not show it. You couldn’t help that tiny voice inside you that agreed with her.

That’s who Dean was, you saw it yourself so many times before the drunken night that finally let the two of you be honest with each other. He’d confessed that every girl since meeting you was a poor substitute, a stand-in, because he didn’t believe you’d felt the same way. And the girls before? What you learned about Dean when it was just the two of you, when he’d finally let his guard down, it wasn’t about conquests and getting his rocks off. He yearned for a true connection with someone, but with his life, his need to protect people, that was all he ever allowed himself. Until you.

But that tiny voice grew a little louder as it told you that he’d slip right back into his old ways after you were gone, his soul still needing to connect with another, if only briefly. A raging jealously flared through you.

She smiled at you as your emotions bubbled to the surface, your voice becoming a growl. “I swear, I’m gonna end you.”

She laughed at you as she walked over to the bed. It dipped and creaked with her weight as she kneeled on it and then swung a leg over you, straddling you. “Let me show you what it’ll be like for him in the coming days, hell maybe hours.” Her closeness was sickening, but when she started running her hands over her body you thought you were really going to lose it. “He’ll lay where you are, watching some whore touch herself and grind down into him.” She let her head fall back as she rocked her hips. You thrashed then, using all your strength to try to throw her off, stop this disgusting display. “That’s right, he’d buck up into her and she’d cry out ‘Oh, Dean! Dean!’”

“Shut up, shut the hell up!” You were screaming at both her and that tiny voice of doubt inside you.

She stilled and leaned down to your face. “It’s a shame you have to go, you’re a pretty fun toy.”

Before you realized what you were doing, you’d spat in her face. She was momentarily shocked but quickly covered it with her revolting smile. “You know, I do need your blood for this spell. I was just gonna go for efficiency and cut your arm, but I think I’ll take the scenic route.” She raised her fist back and punched you. You tried to throw her again, shield yourself, but it was impossible. She threw another punch, and another, the pain exploding in your head and rocketing out of your mouth in a scream. A couple more punches and then everything was black.

You regained consciousness hours later, the sun had set, the cabin lit only by the candles on the makeshift altar on the kitchen table. Your eyes straining to make out the details wasn’t helping the pounding in your head at all.

“Think he stood you up?” She was slouched down in the armchair in the corner of the room, a look of pure boredom on her face.

“Nope. He stood you up.” You tried to smile at her, but pain shot through your face.

She huffed as she pushed herself up from the chair. “Men, am I right?”

You watched as she paced the room, hands on swaying hips. You tried moving again, the bar of the headboard the handcuffs were wrapped around giving just a little.

“You know, you make plans, set a gorgeous table and then he’s late. Where are his manners?”

You tried to focus your eyes on the bar. It looked like the bars were separate from the frame of the headboard; it wasn’t welded together, maybe it screwed in. You wrapped your hands around it as you watched her stop pacing at the sound of a scuffle outside, flesh hitting flesh, the sickening squelch of a knife. Of course she had backup, but as always grunts were no match for the Winchesters.

She took a cautious step to look out a broken window. Something sizzled and she screamed, staggering back a step as her torso smoked like it’d been hit with holy water. You focused on the feel of the bar, grasping and twisting. It slowly started to turn as you heard a familiar sound that you couldn’t exactly identify. She screamed even louder, stumbling back towards you, her right shoulder and upper chest smoking. You grasped even harder to turn the bar, working it loose from the rest of the frame. You sat up, just a few more steps from her is all it would take. She stumbled, landing close enough to the bed that you took your chance, ignoring the pain in your arms to drive the bar into her back.

It stuck there and you watched her writhe, gurgling sounds coming from her instead of screams. The door to the cabin burst open and Dean, all fire and rage, rushed in, Sam following close behind with an equally deadly expression. Dean held the demon knife, already soaked in blood, intent on plunging it into her, but he caught your eyes. He held it out to you at the same time you reached for it, an unspoken understanding that this was your kill.

“Said I’d end you.” You gritted as you plunged the knife into her, watching her light up before twisting the knife and yanking it back out. Two sets of hands were on you as you watched her crumple, lifeless, an apology and prayer in your mind for the unlucky person she was riding.

You looked back to the brothers both crouched down next to the bed, Sam untying your legs, Dean’s hands roving to check your injuries. “I’m fine, Dean.” You reassured him, swiping him away. His expression didn’t ease a bit as he cast his eyes over your face. The pain, the thickness you felt in your face from the swelling, you knew you were a wreck.

He tore his eyes away from you to pick the handcuff locks. In a moment they were gone, replaced by his hands gently rubbing your wrists. “Y/N, I’m sorry.” His bright green eyes found yours, softening into sadness. He placed a hand gently on your thigh and squeezed, his thumb rubbing back and forth.

“Don’t.” You were firm but quiet. You reached a hand up to stroke his cheek and he leaned into your touch. “Don’t you dare put the blame on your shoulders. I won’t let you.”

He screwed up his mouth. “She wanted me, me and Sam. If you weren’t with me -”

You slid your thumb over his lips stopping him. “My life would be a whole lot emptier.” You pulled him close to you, moving your thumb out of the way of your lips just in time. It was slow, and gentle, and perfect, melting the tension in both of you. His hand on your thigh dug in, his other slipping around your back to pull you closer, deepening the kiss.

“Shit!” You hissed as you yanked back from him, your hand flying up to the corner of your mouth. His concern quickly morphed into the smile he used when he tried not to laugh and you cupped your mouth trying to stifle your own giggle. “Not funny, it hurts.” You playfully whined.

“Come on, princess, let’s get some ice on that face, huh?” Dean helped you to stand, a little dizzy at first, but you found your footing.

“Finished over here, if anyone cares.” Sam waved his hands out to the side of him, his attempt at annoyance betrayed by the smile tugging at his lips. You hadn’t noticed that he’d cleared the altar and kitchen, ingredients probably in the bag at his feet. The altar’s symbols were scrawled over, rendering them useless.

“Thanks, Sam.” You flashed him the best smile you could, given the state of your face.

He responded with a dimpled smile of his own. “Glad you’re all right, Y/N.”

“Let’s blow this joint.” You rolled your eyes at Dean cutting through your moment with Sam. He wrapped his arm around your waist, helping you out of the cabin and down the steps, though you both knew you were fine to walk on your own.

You stopped Dean giving him a hard look, finally recognizing the sound you’d heard earlier. “Did - were those water balloons I heard?”

Sammy kept on walking right to the trunk as Dean, embarrassed, tried to explain. “Well I got em cuz I thought they might be fun with how hot it’s been. But, um, yeah, came in handy.”

Not caring about how much pain it caused, you folded forward with laughter. “Dean Winchester. Sometimes, I swear.” You looked back up, wiping a tear from your eye to see how he’d transformed, his whole face lit up with playfulness, softening all the hard lines hunting had cut into it. “Did you use em all?”

He shook his head, sucking in just a bit of his lower lip. “Got a big bag, plenty left.”

“All right, then.” You smirked. “Tomorrow, high noon. You’re goin down.”

He raised a cautioning finger. “Only if you’re feeling better.”

“I’m back with you, aren’t I?” You reached up to cup his face. “I’m already feeling better.” Ignoring your injuries, you pulled him in for a gentle kiss. It didn’t stay that way for long as you felt Dean pour everything he’d never articulate into that kiss. Pressing himself into you, you felt him pleading for forgiveness, his roaming hands expressing his gratitude that he could still hold you. You never minded the fact that he rarely talked about his feelings, not when he could clearly communicate in other ways.

He broke the kiss softly, both of you breathing a little harder than before. “Come on, before Sammy gets cranky.”

Dean opened the passenger side for you and as you slid in you threw an apologetic look to Sam, already slumped down in the back seat. He shook his head at you slightly and gave your shoulder a comforting squeeze, no apology needed. You placed a hand over his as Dean took his place behind the wheel and brought Baby to life.

As Dean pulled away, he cranked the stereo. This, this was all you needed. Flying over pavement and into the night, safe with your love, with your family, living to fight another day.


End file.
